


Fade Away

by cookiegirl



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Angst, Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, F/M, Gen, Sad times, mentions of Orpheus/Eurydice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22926682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookiegirl/pseuds/cookiegirl
Summary: Who has use of a name down here, anyway?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15
Collections: Purimgifts 2020





	Fade Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crossingwinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/gifts).

_build the wall_

She’s not hungry anymore. 

There used to be a hollow space inside her stomach, big and getting bigger all the time. It used to gnaw at her, consuming her every thought, roaring to be satisfied - a lion she could never tame. It’s gone now, but she remembers it. It’s one of the few things she can remember. Maybe that’s because the physical memories are the ones that last the longest, or maybe that’s just part of the deal down here. To be allowed to remember only the reasons why it would be unwise to try to leave.

_stone upon stone_

She’s not cold anymore, either. There’s no wind in Hadestown, no howling gales to rip the clothes from her back, or whip her hair against her face. There are no storms brewing on the horizon, no black, threatening sky. No sky at all.

It’s warm, and she has a blanket and a bed, and really, what else does she need?

_rock upon rock_

Every once in a while, she realizes that she doesn’t know who she is.

She had a name once, but it’s long since disappeared. For a while it floated, just out of reach, on the tip of her tongue. Now she’s not sure she would even recognize it if she heard it again. She’s not sure she would be able to say it, not sure she could form her lips and tongue into the right shapes.

Who has use of a name down here, anyway? 

_stone upon stone_

The king visits them most days. He reminds them all that they should be grateful for everything that he provides, and she supposes that she is. Or she supposes that she would be, if she felt anything at all.

_rock upon rock upon rock upon -_

There is something left, though. When the day ends, when the building of the wall pauses.

She has her dreams, and someone in them. She doesn’t know who he is, she can never quite see what he looks like, but she knows that he’s there. He strokes her hair, and he sings to her in words she does not understand, and he holds her hand. He loves her.

She doesn’t know how to love him back, not anymore. Still, she’s glad he’s there, waiting for her every night. And she doesn’t think about how each night he’s a little less substantial, his touch a little lighter, his voice a little quieter.

She would stay with him if she could. But though the sun doesn’t rise here, morning comes all the same, and work begins again. 

_build the wall_


End file.
